Of Jeans and Coffee
by LOTRRanger
Summary: Steve Rogers had to be the most inconsiderate human being she had ever had the misfortune of meeting. Like, seriously. Who did he think he is? (Originally published on Ao3)


Author's Note: This was originally published on Ao3 on my account there. Been a while since I've posted here, though, and I'm having some difficulty getting this to post in the correct format. Nevertheless, I hope you enjoy!

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Steve Rogers had to be the most inconsiderate human being she had ever had the misfortune of meeting. Like, seriously. Who did the think he is?

"Captain Freakin' America, that's who." Darcy answered her own question under her breath with a scowl. She slammed the stack of papers on the counter and resolutely ignored Jane's cautious, though quizzical, glance.

"He's a nice guy, Darcy," Jane reminded gently. Darcy glared at her.

"Yeah, the guy's a saint," Darcy muttered darkly. "I bet he rescues puppies, too." Jane hesitated and looked away. Darcy gaped. "Are you _serious_? He rescues puppies?" She gave an incredulous laugh. "Of course he does."

"I think it was just this once," Jane hurried to explain. "It was the runt of a litter, and his owner just abandoned him on the side of the road. What else was he supposed to do? He's not a monster."

Darcy grumbled incoherently and continued puttering around the lab. After a solid ten minutes, Jane wearily asked Darcy what Steve had done this time – a record length for the scientist. "He did the thing again." Darcy crossed her arms petulantly and huffed. " _Again_." Jane arched an eyebrow.

"Which thing? Yesterday, he smelled too nice. The day before that, his hair was too perfect. The day before _that_ , his eyes were too blue. The day before _that_..."

"Okay, okay!" Darcy exclaimed, waving her hands frantically. "Enough already." She began pacing the lab. Really, you'd think that Jane would be more understanding of her plight.

"So…?"

"He wore those damn jeans," Darcy muttered. She couldn't mean Jane's eye.

"I see." Jane nodded sagely. "They are very nice jeans. I believe they are part of his venture into modern society. And they do...fit well." Jane worked to smother a grin.

Darcy huffed and slouched against the table. "Yeah, well, it's very inconsiderate of him."

"Oh, very."

Darcy narrowed her eyes. "Don't think I didn't pick up on that sarcastic tone and nod of mock concern, Miss. My-Boyfriend's-A-God. I know when I'm being patronized."

Jane shrugged. "I'm just saying. If I wasn't happily off the market and a gorgeous – and intelligent, I might add – man was chatting _me_ up, I wouldn't be pouting about it."

"Chatting – _chatting –_ me up?" Darcy exclaimed. "Please. Steve Rogers is not _chatting_ me up. No. Pfft. He's just a nice guy. He doesn't like me." Her cheeks tinged pink. "Well, romantically at least."

"I thought you said he was inconsiderate."

"He is!" Darcy insisted. "He wore those jeans! Haven't you been listening? He's trying to _kill me_ , Jane! And I'm too pretty to die!"

"Oh, I've been listening," Jane assured. "But all I'm hearing is you having a massive crush on Captain Steve Rogers and living in equally massive denial about it."

"That's absolutely ridiculous." She blustered. Still, she couldn't meet Jane's eyes. Darcy lifted her chin and looked away as proudly as she could manage. It was Jane's turn to laugh incredulously.

"Oh, you so do. If I had a scientific breakthrough for every time you complained about something incredibly sweet Steve did for you, why I'd… I'd definitely have won a Nobel Peace Prize. Probably two."

"Okay, fine. Yeah, I like the guy. So what. No big deal." Darcy threw her hands in the air with exasperation. "But I'm kinda not in his league, if you hadn't noticed. Don't get me wrong – I'm a total catch. I'm freakin' awesome. Any guy would be lucky to have me. But this is Captain freakin' America. He doesn't exactly spring for women. Or men." She frowned. "I think he might be asexual. Millions of girls everywhere will crushed if this gets out..." Darcy trailed off, imagining the bedlam.

She always did choose the worst men to like. And she did like Steve. A lot. It was kinda a problem.

Jane laughed and patted Darcy's shoulders.

"Anyway," Darcy corrected her derailed train of thought. "My point is that Steve wouldn't go for the lowly former-intern whose only superpower is making kick-ass coffee and navigating bureaucratic nonsense."

"Did you ask him?"

Darcy froze and slowly turned. Based on the smug grin Jane sported, Darcy gathered that Jane had seen the aforementioned Steve enter the lab. There was no telling how much he had heard.

He was still wearing those jeans. _Of course._

"I'm just going to...leave you two alone for a bit." Jane quietly excused herself.

"Jane! No, Jane, get back here! Don't you..." Darcy scrambled to catch her friend but was neatly evaded. She sighed, carefully leaving several feet between Steve and herself, but squared her shoulders. She was a grown woman. She could handle the situation like a grown, mature woman. Besides, she and Steve had always had pleasant interactions over coffee, paperwork, and the occasional lunch; there was no need for them to stop now, despite his inconsiderate behavior. "Did I ask 'him' what?" Darcy said finally. She gave him a bright smile.

Steve took a step forward. He kept his eyes trained on Darcy as if she was a wild animal. "The type of girl Steve Rogers fancies." Darcy took a step backward and tried to keep her eyes from darting about. She held her chin high. She'd be damned before she showed him weakness.

"Yeah, I'm afraid that never came up. Too busy talking about other stuff. And you're a busy guy. Saving people, hunting things, the family business. You know. Big stuff. Important stuff." Steve's lips twitched upwards at the reference, which he understood thanks to Darcy.

"And pie," Steve reminded. He took another step forward.

"Like I said, important stuff. Pie is very important." She took another step backward, determined to keep at least four feet between them.

"You never asked if I was carrying a torch for anyone."

"Nope. Not my business." She was still curious, of course. She'd have gone social media stalking, except Steve hadn't jumped on that bandwagon yet.

Steve and Darcy continued their dance around the lab. He would step towards her and she would step away from him – always moving. His expression and mannerisms were intense – focused, like a hunter. And she was his prey. But she didn't know if she wanted to get caught. She wouldn't give herself hope that he might care only to have her hopes and dreams crash down around her.

"I think it is your business," Steve refuted calmly.

Darcy snorted. Enough was enough. "Well, all this has been terribly fun and awkward, but I'm getting back to work now." She began to skirt the nearest lab table, intending to walk along the walls of the lab until she reached the door. But in a move she really should have seen coming, Steve propelled himself over the table and landed neatly in front of her.

She sighed. Her heart skipped a beat of its marathon. She threw up her hands. "Okay, fine. We'll talk about this." She crossed her arms across her chest and adopted the most professional expression she could muster. "Steve, are you carrying a torch for anyone?"

Steve nodded. "Yeah, I am, actually."

Darcy sighed. She thought so. Him and Natasha were pretty tight. Still, her heart constricted painfully and her stomach did a few summersaults. Her eyes stung from the pending waterworks. But she forced a broad smile. "Well! That's great for you. I wish you all the luck in the world and all that crap. Now that we have that settled, I have to get back to work. Very busy."

"Darcy, wait." He gripped her waist firmly when she tried to brush past him. His eyes implored her to listen – begged her to understand. "You really don't know, do you?"

"Pfft. I know a lot of things, oh captain my captain." Darcy lifted her chin imperiously. "I _am_ top of my class."

"You're one of the smartest people I know," Steve agreed seriously. Darcy blinked. He was being utterly genuine. "And you're usually really good at reading people." He tilted his head, brow furrowing in confusion. "I thought sure you knew. I was never any good at hiding it."

Darcy blinked. Surely he wasn't being serious. "Are you trying to tell me that I'm the match to your candle? The Mary to your Poppins? The peanut butter to your jelly?" Steve blushed.

"I was hoping – " Steve cleared his throat. His voice was somewhat strained when he continued, though he finished with relative confidence. "I was hoping that you would accept my invitation to get coffee."

Darcy was usually impetuous. She relied on her gut, and it rarely led her astray. (There were a few instances that spoke to the contrary, but that was beside the point.) She preferred to leap before looking, though she tried to be smart about the leaping. For once, however, Darcy was rendered speechless. Because of all the things she expected to happen that day, Steve Rogers asking her on a date was certainly _not_ on the list.

Not that she was complaining.

"Yeah, I'd love to." Darcy heard herself say. Gut had spoken.

Steve's answering smile was broad, toothy, and relieved. His face shone and Darcy couldn't help but smile at his happiness – or her own. Because she was happy. Hella nervous, and for a million good reasons. But Steve was nervous too. She could see it in the way he bit his inner cheek and how he shifted slightly on his feet. His fingers played with each other in a way that Steve thought was probably inconspicuous – and probably was inconspicuous to the casual observer.

They stood there, two feet apart. Neither spoke.

"I get off at five," Darcy offered helpfully. Steve latched onto it like a lifeline.

"I can pick you up!" Steve said eagerly. He cleared his throat. His tenor deepened with forced casualness. "Or, you know, we can do it another time. If that works better for you."

Darcy smiled and shook her head. Always a tactile person, she gently touched his arm. "No, today is good. There's a great place a few blocks away that I think you might like. Their danishes are to die for." Her eyes closed and face tipped up at the memory of her last danish. It had been heaven.

"That sounds perfect to me." He wasn't lying. Although Darcy had never known Steve to lie – he really was a startlingly honest person.

Darcy grinned briefly before impulsively pushing herself onto her tiptoes and pressed her lips onto his cheek. The red tint in his cheeks was worth the slight wobble in her balance, especially when Steve put his hands around her waist to steady her. Which she did not mind in the slightest.

"Better bring your A game, Rogers," Darcy warned with a wink.

"I intend to." His voice was solemn, but there was a twinkle in his eyes.

Oh yes. Steve Rogers could certainly be most inconsiderate. But he always compensated very generously. So, really, it wasn't so bad.

Because, when it came down to it, he was Steve freakin' Rogers.


End file.
